The Brotherhood 8 Under Hill and Over the Bar

by Willa Okati

  It also likely followed that the rest of his Brothers were, or would be, in much the same straits as himself, beset by creatures that didn’t normally walk the earth. Or perhaps they did, just in disguise. Laurence spared a few moments to think about the men he mostly didn’t know, of whom he liked only a handful, and wondered where they were, what they were doing. With any luck, the men he shared salt and bread with every week were all having the time of their lives tonight -- for one night at least.

  Had any of them found true love? If so, he wished them well. Frankly, he was inclined to believe they’d run into the same situation as he had -- enchanted by an otherworldly creature who talked a good line but who was fantastic in bed.

  He silently saluted the moon. Here’s to making love.

  Keelan called his name from behind him, voice hushed. Laurence approved. Silence, or as near silence as possible, befit the moment. Even the air felt solemn and still, as if something unseen was waiting and watching to see what they would do. Perhaps benevolently, but there nonetheless. “Laurence, are you ready for me?”

  Laurence took in a deep breath. Now that he was concentrating on it, the air tasted differently than the thick, musk-choked aroma of Amour Magique’s dance floor, the yeasty beeriness of Rocco’s bar, or even the normal outdoors he was used to in Charleston. Here, everything seemed a bit newer, more unspoiled. Fresh. Irish Spring, he thought in amusement.

  He breathed in and out again, steadying himself, and nodded. “I’m ready.”

  Instead of leaping on him, as Laurence had more or less expected, or even crawling up his body in a panther-like stalk, as he might have done, Keelan sat gracefully down by his side.

  Such ease of movement ... if I believed in fairy tales, I would have pegged Keelan for what he is from the moment we met. Laurence turned his head to look at the elf, mildly curious and letting it show.

  Keelan had been a busy elf indeed. Somehow in his silent preparations, he’d not only found a handful of condoms, now scattered across the grass in shining square packets, he’d procured more of the wonderfully scented lubricant in a duplicate glass bottle and, most surprising, come up with a shallow basin filled with what smelled like -- Laurence sniffed again -- lemons. “What is this?” he asked, raising his head in an effort to peek.

  The elf smiled, dipping his hand into the pan with a splashing sound. He came up with a soft sponge that dripped with suds. “For you,” he said softly. “For this, our last time together, we should be clean. I’d wear the mark of you all night long if I thought you’d allow it, if I thought you would stay.”

  “And since I won’t?” Laurence’s voice was more gentle than he expected.

  “Then let me wash your creamy skin clean of any stickiness, and your chest of any sweat. Let us come together as if this were the first time, fresh and clean.” Keelan made a slight move with the sponge. “May I?”

  Laurence considered the elf for a stretch of time, not in any hurry to make up his mind, then acquiesced. Keelan smiled, his face so beautiful that it almost hurt Laurence to look upon him, and laid the sponge carefully against Laurence’s belly. The water it had soaked in was warm indeed, just this side of being too hot. It felt like heaven against his sore muscles.

  Keelan began to rub in slow, easy circles, easing away the coat of sticky fluids Laurence had gathered, dipping back into his tub of cleansing water time and again. His face was a study in concentration as he washed each quadrant of chest, each ridge of the stomach, and, after a quick questioning glance, Laurence’s cock and balls. Keelan treated them with the same care he had lavished on the rest of Laurence’s body, handling them like the jewels all men prized their own packages as.

  “What about you?” Laurence asked as Keelan picked up a thick white square of terrycloth to wipe away the dampness and suds. “Do I get to wash you, too?”

  A grin tilted up Keelan’s kissable lips. “Do you want to? No, no, don’t answer me. I’ll care for myself. I want you to just lie there, beautiful as you are, so I may fix a picture of your body in my mind’s eye to treasure later on, when I am alone.”

  “You only love me for my body,” Laurence said, idly joking, and was surprised by Keelan’s flinch. “Keelan ...”

  “No. Don’t.” Keelan shook his head, silky dark hair now spilling over his shoulders almost down to his nipples.

  “It’s longer, isn’t it? Your hair, I mean.”

  Keelan twitched a lock up to his eyes to look. “Some. All of the elvenkind have their own quirks and peculiarities. When I am aroused, my cock is not the only thing that grows.” His eyes grew heavy-lidded. “If you had agreed to stay until daylight, I have no doubt that the hair would reach my ankles. Can you imagine such a thing, Laurence? All this, like black satin, for you to wind around yourself, to drape about you like a curtain, to tease every nerve in your skin to glittering life.” He dropped the strand of hair. “But we’ll never know, will we?”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel bad about my decision, it won’t work,” Laurence murmured. He held out a hand. “Hurry up, Keelan. I want to ... get back to the bar.”

  The last had been a lie, or mostly a lie, and Laurence didn’t know why he’d changed his sentence in mid-course. He’d been about to say, I want to touch you. Why had he stopped himself?

  The look in Keelan’s eyes told Laurence he might as well have spoken the words anyway. They grew dusky with the knowledge of a man who knew he was about to make love, who had no doubt in his mind of his lover’s willingness. The expression was a look secret to the male half of any species, no matter who their partner was.

  “I will hurry,” Keelan said quietly, his voice more of a caress than any touch from his hands could be. And with Laurence looking at him, he leaned back on his heels, baring his chest to view, and began to run the sponge over himself. He paid just as much careful attention to his own sterling qualities as he had to Laurence’s body, perhaps even showing off a little, like a peacock displaying his iridescent feathers before mating.

  Laurence lay still and watched. He started to wonder if he were insane for turning down this man -- this elf’s -- unspoken offer of future adventures. Without a doubt, from the tip of his gleaming dark head to the toes of his luminously white feet, Keelan had to be the sexiest man Laurence had ever laid eyes on. God, the elf had such pretty feet. Laurence could imagine himself, if he’d had the time, sucking on those toes some lazy afternoon when they shared a bath together. Kinky, but he had a feeling Keelan would like the play -- and might even return the favor.

  What dreams may come, he thought. Shakespeare again. Laurence found himself thinking that Keelan would appreciate the reference, and knew he had to stop taking the other man into consideration. Keelan was already worming his way into Laurence’s mind, making a home for himself in his thoughts, but they were about to end this carousel ride.

  Why?

  Laurence surprised himself with the question. Just as quickly, though, he had an answer. Because he’s not like me, and I’m not like him. We could never last. The two of us can’t agree on anything from where we are to what we’re doing.

  Except now, in this moment, where we seem to have a perfect understanding ...

  Frowning, Laurence put a stop to his treacherous thoughts and urged on the elf who’d sent his world spinning around and around that night. “Hurry up.” This time, he brought himself to say what he felt. “I need you.”

  The look on Keelan’s face was a reward in itself. He smiled almost like a boy as he placed the sponge back in its silver basin, then, with a flick of his fingers, banished the washing water and materials. “Neat trick?” he asked, as if doubting Laurence’s reply.

  Laurence smiled. “Pretty nifty,” he agreed. “Are you coming?”

  “I will be, soon.” Keelan began to lean over Laurence, then aborted his movement, shaking his head. “This is your show. I owe you this much, at least. You’ve given unto me. Let me now give unto you.”

  “You’ve changed the way you
talk,” Laurence said dreamily, gazing at the beauty of the undecided face. “ Now you sound more like I would expect an elf to.”

  “Perhaps it’s that I feel more like an elf.” Keelan’s fingers rustled through the nest of condoms with that sad half-smile on his face again. “Dealer’s choice,” he offered. “There’s an embarrassment of riches here.”

  Laurence let his own hand roam through the packets. “What did you do, break open a vending machine inside the club?”

  “I fed it quarters, honestly gained, although how you humans manage to use such lesser metals for currency still escapes my understanding.”

  “I’ll have to teach you sometime,” Laurence said without thinking. He bit his lip. “I’m sorry, Keelan. I shouldn’t make promises I’m not planning to keep.”

  “No. No apologies. Not this night.” Keelan let his fingers touch Laurence’s for a brief moment, then pulled away. He lay down on his back, gloriously naked, hair spilled out in a negative halo around his head, and looked at Laurence. “Here I am,” he said, his voice seductive and vulnerable all at once. “Come and have me, if you will.”

  Laurence felt a surge of strength run through him. “I choose to take you,” he said, rising up on his hands and knees. Normally he was the bottom in his relationships, such as they had been before and during his disastrous breakup -- and he hadn’t had a chance to experiment since joining The Brotherhood. He accepted; he didn’t give. Tonight, though, this felt right. He would share himself with Keelan, and spare nothing on the trimmings.

  With that thought firmly fixed foremost in his mind, Laurence rummaged through the condoms again. “Keelan? Don’t lie to me. Can elves and humans transmit anything between them?”

  Keelan’s answer was immediate, his tones still as soft as a downy feather. “ My word on the matter, Laurence, and I do not give my word lightly. There is only the truth between us now. Nothing of an ill nature can pass between any species of which I know -- not elves to humans, nor any other creature that walks or crawls. We are unique unto ourselves.” His lips curved wryly. “There is always the issue of issue, of course, that is to say, pregnancy, but somehow I think we need not worry ourselves on that particular matter.” He paused. “Does this question mean what I hope it means?”

  “If you’re guessing this ...” Laurence scattered the condoms aside, “then, yes, you’re right.”

  Keelan let out a deep breath, an almost joyful sound. “You’ll enter me bare.” His voice sounded like an angel singing hallelujah. “I’ll feel you deep inside me. Know when you’ve come by the hot pulses within my flesh.” His eyes opened a bit wider. “You will fuck me, won’t you? You do have lovemaking in mind?”

  “I do, I will, I am.” Laurence touched the soft pads of his fingertips to Keelan’s mouth. “Hush, now. Let me do this, but I want you to be quiet. Can you? For me?” He didn’t know why silence seemed so important, only that it did. He didn’t want to hear any other noises, not even his own voice, while they were occupied with their long goodbye.

  Keelan nodded. Laurence let some of the exasperated, surprising fondness he was suddenly feeling flood up into his eyes as he kissed his own fingertips and pressed them to the elf’s luscious mouth. Keelan caught at them, sucking briefly before letting go with a sparkle of mischief. Chuckling quietly, Laurence had to salute the elf. Even when he was down, he was up.

  Speaking of which, he felt a familiar, heavy ache filling the flesh between his legs. When he glanced at himself, he was erect again, his cock ready for action. Slim, but long. Good things, so far as he was concerned -- he could reach further, and he’d need less preparation time. He had no idea how used to taking the stick Keelan might be, and he didn’t want to hurt the elf. The elf who, as he noted with a glance, was also very much aroused, his own cock flush against his belly and already damp at the tip. He wanted to ask if this much horniness was due to Keelan’s own nature, but didn’t want to break the silence.

  To make sure he didn’t, Laurence leaned down and pressed his mouth to Keelan’s in a kiss.

  At first chaste, a mere touch of mouth to mouth, it lingered until Laurence slid the tip of his tongue out and traced the line of Keelan’s lips, coaxing them open. He slipped inside gently, stroking instead of thrusting, twining and letting himself be tasted. He wondered what his own flavor might be. The strawberries his lover kept mentioning, perhaps? Keelan tasted of toasted ripe almonds and honey, as if he’d been eating an elven banquet before coming to this bed of grass.

  When the kiss ended, Laurence finished with a long, whispered, “Shh” on Keelan’s mouth. He moved so that he was kneeling above the elf, one knee on either side of his hips, then realized this was how he had positioned himself before. It wouldn’t do. Frowning, he considered the situation for a moment, then had an idea.

  Gesturing again for quiet, he reached for Keelan’s slender, muscled legs and raised first one, then the other over his shoulders, bracing himself under the weight. Keelan smiled blissfully as the motion rocked him further on his back, changing his angle so that Laurence’s cock was poised at the seam of his entrance.

  They stayed like that for several heartbeats, Laurence counting them as they pounded in his pulse and his cock. Keelan finally let out a breath of air and tried to move forward, to impale himself.

  Laurence shook his head firmly. They were going to do this right, not roughly or harshly. Keelan would be prepared, and having been on the receiving end so many times, Laurence thought he knew how to do the job right. Reaching for the bottle of lubricating oil, he unstoppered it, paused for a moment to breathe in the amazing fragrance of cinnamon and vanilla, then poured some out onto his fingertips. Just as before, it felt silky and smooth, and when he slid his fingers between Keelan’s ass cheeks, his fingers almost glided their way directly to the elf’s puckered hole.

  As Laurence probed, Keelan released another long and lingering breath, opening himself up to Laurence’s fingers, which slid in easily, barely needing to stretch the elf. He wished he didn’t have the thought that this was most likely from frequent practice. The knowledge saddened him.

  Again, why?

  Laurence gave a small sigh and shoved that thought to the back of his mind, focusing again on the task at hand. No, not a task -- a delight. The feel of Keelan from the inside, hot and tight, gripping him as the elf squeezed, made his face heat with the sure and certain knowledge of how wonderful it would feel to drive his cock deep within that channel. Mischief on his face, Keelan bore down, grasping Laurence’s fingers like a python, almost startling him into exclaiming aloud. Unwilling to speak, Laurence dealt Keelan a severe glare which softened almost immediately into amusement.

  He anointed his own member with the oil next, closing his eyes with a whispered hiss at how amazing the liquid felt on such sensitive skin. The cinnamon woke up nerve endings he hadn’t even known he possessed, and the vanilla rose up in a heady cloud around them both.

  No waiting, then; there was no need. Laurence aligned the head of his cock with Keelan’s eager entrance, and pushed. There was a slight resistance, a moment of force, and then he was in, gliding slickly on the oil, as if he were pushing into the finger of a velvet-lined iron glove. His balls, heavy and tight, slapped against Keelan’s ass before he realized he had to stop.

  Gasping in surprise and at the sensation of being so deep, so tightly held, Laurence met Keelan’s eyes. He found himself startled by what he discovered there. Delight, yes, but also sorrow. Laurence tried to telegraph his thoughts. If this is the last time, then let’s make it a good one. He would have sworn Keelan understood him, for the elf nodded, and bore down with just the right amount of pressure to make Laurence gasp.

  Laurence began to fuck in earnest, then, still controlled, without any intent to hurt or bruise, but with the goal to give as much pleasure as he received. To his amusement and delight, he found that elves seemed to have the same sort of prostate gland as humans, or at least a reasonable facsimile. Keelan inhaled sharply, breath catch
ing in his throat, when Laurence nudged it on entry and exit. He took special care to give the spongy spot a prod both ways, loving the way Keelan all but writhed on his cock.

  To his surprise, the landscape began to change in subtle ways, humming in pleasure now just as it had moaned in pain earlier. The ground beneath Laurence’s knees hollowed, leaving him in shallow divots, and humped up under Keelan, changing his angle yet again so that Laurence’s thrusts were sharper still. Where Keelan clutched at the grass, furrows appeared in the shape of his fingers, deep into the grass.

  As Laurence watched, two stones shaped like crude phalluses emerged from the dirt. Keelan grasped both of them and hung on, his face twisting in the blissful contortions of a man who was in the process of being well-fucked and loving every second of the encounter.

  Grinning savagely, Laurence pushed forward again, rocking on his knees, making the most of every movement. He wished he could have taken Keelan’s cock in his own and run his fingers over the gleaming ivory length, just to feel the satin softness of the skin over the steely hard core, to smear the wetness trickling down one side around and down, to cup Keelan’s balls and roll them in his hands.

  If wishes were horses ... but then again, we are both riding tonight. Laurence found he was sweating again, a light dew of perspiration. Keelan, too, was glistening in the moonlight. The elf almost looked to be made out of silver and was so handsome that he stole what was left of Laurence’s breath away. Careful of their position, feeling oddly that this was a moment where he should be quiet, not letting his voice disturb the sounds of pure fucking, he maneuvered so that he could kiss the elf and taste his unique flavor again. He was taken aback by how desperately Keelan kissed him in return, as if he’d make the touch last forever, or at least as long as he could possibly stretch it out.

  Between them, Keelan’s cock throbbed, the pulsations jerking it steadily against their stomachs. Laurence felt his lover’s balls draw into a hard knot, while inside the elf’s slick rear, he experienced a sensation of such exquisite pressure unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The stimulation comprised a long steady glide down from the base of his cock to the very tip, like a hand stroking him with just the right touch to ...